Armand Schwerner - the work

the work

Armand Schwerner

for Phil Niblock

1.   the work

it is not that there is no beginning
is there no beginning the fluid text
becomes its very river, rapids,
it is that the text is not
or that beginninglessness itself
be in the heart of the text, that search there
is the beginning of the mistake of considering
of lust for a beginning hold me lover but no
it is not possible to contract for a stay
it is not possible not to voice, to voice
poem must be possible there is no walking
in this room no sitting no one listens no prone alert
there is only this endless speaking to voice; the head the
                                  thighs the red work only
this endless speaking overheard semiheard it is impossible
to not overhear the endless speaking in all the bodies
sending sending themselves to themselves there is no
rolling no eating there is no
roiling in the fucking-room for no one is it possible
not to overhear the beginningless speaking lizard movement
                                          in the mind-body
gnawing and a great coil endless there is only the goddess
of the endless speaking upsurging
through the asphalt why is there this no-beginning says
the weary attention to rest to rest after the capture one
moment capture of silence the unconscious gossip damped once
can be no beginning the cut sharp cry of the crowbar need to
but the endless speaking upsurging there is no
walking no one ever eats there is no running only this
no one is drawing circles or the circle is being drawn
into the mind loop upon bright loop of the speaking
forming endless menorah branches of the speaking guttering
                            candles of the mind's speaking
random is it random random animalcules of the wax
of the wax of the mind's speaking the
clambering lizard of the mind playing as it's the moaning
of the endless speaking or bright gutterings
giving the dark an Egyptian relief what's going on under or
undercutting beyond or transshaping through the speaking
master, there is no walking no master no one is sitting here
no one squeezing her thighs together for the lips'
pleasure there is no listening no listening! only
the endless speaking the vast cabin of branches
forking out in constantly unexpected emptinesses
the raw cabin woodworld the sap of such joyousness! no
rest, is it awakening? could it be the attentiveness
implicit in the red work the stems intent like Leaky
toward their patience their unstopping patience
the watchfulness of the stems, branches observing branches,
                                                    is this
an awakening or a dying? green-ochre lizard-color stems,
uranium stillness, is the action a phenomenal
joke not patience but slavery attentive
it is not possible to contract for a stay

From Grist On-Line #1, October, 1993.
© copyright 1993, Armand Schwerner